Vendredi Bizarre
by The Lark
Summary: Valjean and Javert switch places for a day.
1. Chapter 1

Vendredi Bizarre

By The Lark

Disclaimer: Les Miz belongs to Victor Hugo, Cameron MacIntosh, and a bunch of other geniuses. All I own is a an ancient laptop and a battered copy of the Brick.

Jean Valjean climbed out of bed and went to the window to greet the day (and maybe check the yard for cops while he was there). "Ah," he sighed contentedly. "Another day NOT toiling my life away in a miserable galley. Life is good."

Just then, he heard Toussaint knocking on the door. "Breakfast in f-f-five minutes!" the old woman announced.

"Coming!" Valjean headed down to the table, which was conspicuously deserted. "Cosette?" He glanced around, looking for his daughter. "Hey, Toussaint, where's my little sugarplum?"

"Hiding in her room, k-k-kissing that old piece of p-paper and giggling again." Toussaint rolled her eyes.

Valjean shrugged. "Well, whatever makes her happy, I guess…"

"M-m-monsieur Fauchelevant, have you ever considered getting that child a prescription for Ritalin?"

"Nonsense!" Valjean exclaimed. "My little girl is perfect."

"Yeah, right." Toussaint snickered under her breath. "If she's so perfect, why does she spend every night in the backyard, making out with that grungy-looking college boy?"

Valjean leapt out of his chair and frantically jammed his fingers in his ears. "No! No, I won't listen!"

"Oh, c-c-come on!" the old woman persisted. "Don't tell me you've n-never n-noticed them out there!"

Valjean was humming very loudly in an attempt to drown her out. "_I can't hear you! La dee da dee da la la la la…"_

Toussaint sighed wearily. "I don't get p-p-paid nearly enough for this." She grabbed Valjean's shoulder and shook him roughly, in an attempt to snap him out of it. "M-monsieur--"

Valjean shook her off and darted under the table. "Can't hear you! _La dee da dee da dee da dee da…_hey, wait a minute." He noticed a stack of paper under one of the table's legs. "What's this?"

"Oh, just some junk mail I've been using to prop up that wobbly leg," replied Toussaint.

Valjean examined the envelopes closely. "But these are bills." He thumbed through them. "'Second Notice'…'Third Notice'…'We Know Where You Live'…'We're Sending Our Thugs Over'!" He gaped incredulously at Toussaint. "You stuck these under the _table_?"

"Well," Toussaint fired back defensively, "what d-d-do you expect when y-y-you hire a s-servant who can't read?"

Valjean shook his head and tugged on his coat. "Oh, never mind! I'll take care of it. I'll just go and get some of that money that I buried in the--er…uh, that is…" Unable to come up with a suitable save, he bolted out the door. "Bye!"

"Hmm," Toussaint muttered pensively. "M-m-maybe I should have l-let him know about that c-c-cop who's been watching the house with binoculars for the past couple of days. Ah, well," she shrugged, "it's probably nothing.

Meanwhile, in a tree across the street, Inspector Javert was peering through his trusty binoculars. "Heh heh heh," he cackled, "I've got him now." The inspector smirked evilly. "That's right, 24601, come on out of your ill-gotten dream house, oblivious to the fact that you shall soon be my prisoner once again." He reached into his pocket. "Now all I have to do is grab my trusty nightstick." He felt around in his empty pocket. What had happened to his nightstick?!

He suddenly noticed a little grey squirrel scampering across the branch in front of him, holding the prized baton in its mouth. "Hey! Get back here, you miserable little rodent! Stealing an inspector's nightstick is a felony!" Holding onto the branch with one hand, he grabbed for the squirrel with the other. "I'll have behind bars quicker than you can say obss-_aaaaaaaaaaaagh!_" Pouncing on the squirrel, he lost his balance, and became tangled between two rather thorny branches. "Blast it all!" Narrowing his eyes, he shook his one free fist up at the squirrel. "You've made a powerful enemy, rodent."

The squirrel responded by scampering across Javert's face.

"ACH-ACH-ACHOOOOOO!" Javert thundered. "I order you to stop that this instant! ACHOOOOOO! You confounded creature--I'm allergic--ACHOO!--to animal fur! ACHOO! ACHOO! ACHOO! AAAAAAH!"

Valjean, who was passing by a few feet below the action, glanced around curiously for the source of the strange scream. "Is that a person in need I'm hearing?" On the spot, he dropped to his knees. "Oh Great and Merciful Lord, is it your divine will for me to assist this pitiful soul? Am I truly worthy of this opportunity for redemption? Or would--"

"Blast, man, just shut up and get me--ACHOO!--down already!"

"Certainly, my brother." Valjean rose and lifted the entangled Inspector out of the tree, brushing the leaves and twigs off of him. "We'll just get you…" He gasped as he got a good look at the policeman's face. "Javert!"

A frightening look of glee crept across Javert's red-eyed, runny-nosed face. "Valjean! Yes!" He whipped out his trusty handcuffs and seized the convict's wrists. "I've finally nabbed you, 24601! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Javert laughed maniacally.

"No!" Valjean's eyes welled up with tears. "Please, Inspector, don't take me away from my daughter! Her mother is dead and she won't have anyone at all if she loses me."

Javert quirked an eyebrow. "What about that lawyer fellow I saw her cuddling up to in the garden last night?"

Valjean just about exploded. "_That's it! You're toast!_" he scream, tackling Javert.

Javert positively glowed. _Yes! _the inspector thought triumphantly, _he's giving me an excuse to use physical force!_ Lacking a proper baton, he picked up a nearby stick and repeatedly battered the convict over the head with it. "You're under arrest! You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say can and will result in an all-expenses-paid trip to the guillotine!"

Valjean knocked the stick out of his hands. "Javert, you've got some real issues with aggression. Have you ever considered a peaceful retirement in a monastery?"

Their impromptu wrestling match came to an abrupt halt as a flash of blinding white light suddenly appeared overhead. In the middle of the glow hovered an angel, looking down on the pair disapprovingly. "Gentlemen!" the angel shouted. "On your feet at once! Really, this childish violence is unworthy of you."

"Javert started it," Valjean defended, pointing accusingly at the inspector.

"That's enough, Valjean," the angel scolded sternly.

"How do you know my name?" Valjean wanted to know. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ted. I'm an angel," the angel replied nonchalantly.

Valjean brightened. "Has Almighty God heard my cries for help and sent you to deliver me out of the hands of this instrument of the oppressors?"

"What?" Javert spluttered. "How dare you?!"

Ted just shook his head. "No, Valjean."

"See?" Javert said smugly. "Told you. He's come to help me overpower you and bring you to justice in order to restore the balance of the universe."

Ted whacked him upside the head. "What are you idiots talking about? God just sent me to keep you two from ruining the flow of this novel with your petty bickering. It's really starting to get on his nerves."

Valjean was struck dumb for a moment. "B-b-but I'm the good guy!"

Javert shoved him, disgusted. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You're a con. _I'm_ the good guy."

"Oh, you are not," Valjean retorted.

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

Ted whistled shrilly. "If you keep this up, neither of you will get to be the good guy."

Javert glared. Valjean sulked.

Ted began to pace in midair. "I think I'm starting to see the problem here. The root of your rivalry seems to be your lack of understanding for one another." He snapped his fingers smartly. "Of course! What I need to do is have you two switch places. Then you'll be able to really see where the other guy is coming from."

"No!" Valjean and Javert cried simultaneously.

"Yes! It'll work perfectly." Ted grinned. "And the Boss has promised me a new big-screen TV for my cloud-condo if I can get you two on civil terms." The angel blew his golden trumpet with a flourish. "See you boys later." The angel vanished, leaving a cloud of white mist behind him. When the mist finally cleared, Javert and Valjean were staring at each other in confusion.

"AAAAAAAAAAGH!" screamed the convict.

"AAAAAAAAAAGH!" screamed the inspector.

"You're in my body!" shrieked Valjean-in-Javert's-body.

"Ugh!" moaned Javert-in-Valjean's-body. "I'm Valjean! This is _horrible_!"

Meanwhile, Valjean-in-Javert's-body was feeling his new face curiously. "This face is so itchy! That's it--these sideburns are coming off right now." He ran off toward his house.

The displaced inspector ran after him menacingly. "Don't you dare touch my sideburns, 24601!"

A/N: I actually posted this fic around five years ago. Back then, it was in script format, and it got deleted when FFN came out with their "no scripts" rule. I found a print-out while cleaning out some files the other day, and decided to post it again, this time in a non-forbidden format. The other chapters will be up as soon as I type and edit them.


	2. Chapter 2: Valjean's Day

Chapter Two: Valjean's Day

Halfway to the front door, Javert noticed a clock chiming eight somewhere down the street. "Damn! I'm late for work!

Valjean just laughed. "Oh, heaven forbid."

Javert glowered venomously. "This is serious, 24601. My twenty-year perfect attendance record is in jeapordy, here. I've got to get to the prefect's office." He glanced down at his temporary body. "But how? They'll arrest me on the spot. And then _you_'_ll_ be free to run amok." He sighed defeatedly. "There's only one solution."

"What?"

"You must go into the office, and pretend to be me." He reached over and pulled his badge out of Valjean's pocket. "Don't forget to put this on."

Valjean eyed the badge skeptically, as if he expected it to turn into a poisonous snake at any moment. "You're handing you badge over to me? You can't be serious."

Javert cringed. "Just take it and go, before I change my mind."

Valjean took the badge with a smile. "Happy to help, then." He took off down the street. "Take care of my baby for me!" Javert just flinched.

Valjean dashed through the streets of Paris, taking notice of all the uneasy glances and screams of terror people were sending his way. "Gosh, the inspector must not have many friends. Can't say as I'm surprised. Maybe if he were friendlier, he wouldn't have that problem."

Valjean strode into the precinct, trying not to look like a hunted animal. As he searched for Javert's desk, a man who must have been the prefect came up to greet him. "Ah, good morning, Inspector Javert. You know, you were just seven seconds away from blowing your perfect attendance record."

"Right, right, sorry about that," mumbled Valjean uncertainly.

"So," the prefect continued cheerfully, "caught that convict of yours yet?"

A faint sheen of perspiration broke out on Valjean's forehead. "Um, no. Actually I just found out that he's…um…dead! Yep, that's right, all gone! No more 24601!"

The prefect patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "Wow, after all these years, huh? That's tough. Well," he gestured to a desk that must have belonged to the Inspector, "I guess you should get cracking on one of these other cases that have been piling up on your desk for the past few years." He picked up a random file, brushing away several years worth of dust and cobwebs. "Hm, this one here looks like it'd be right up your alley. 'The Case of the Demmed Elusive Pimpernel'."

"I think it's high time you updated those files, sir," replied Valjean.

"Oh." The prefect handed him another, slightly less dusty file. "Well, how about taking on Jondrette and Patron Minette, then?"

Valjean nodded. "Okay, why not?"

"That's the spirit, Javert!" He shoved the file into Valjean's hands. "I want them rotting in jail by lunch time, you hear?"

Valjean strolled out of the precinct, shuffling idly through the file. "Gorbeau House? Now, where is that? I need some directions." He hailed a passing gamin. "You there! Little boy?"

The gamin whirled around in surprise. "Hey, it's you! That rotten cop who boxed my ears the other day!" He picked a large rock up off the ground, taking careful aim. "Oh-ho, this is going to be _sweet_!"

Valjean stared pityingly at the grimy urchin. "Poor little fellow. His attitude problems are clearly caused by a lack of proper adult supervision." He gently patted the boy's head.

The gamin shot him a death glare. "Did you just call me 'little'? Ohhhhh, that's the last straw!" He prepared to fire his rock straight at the not-quite-inspector's skull.

"Wait!" Valjean protested. "Do you know the way to the Gorbeau tenement?"

"Yeah."

"Great! Could you show me the way?"

The gamin snorted contemptuously. "Why should I?"

"Well, I promised Javert's--uh, _my_ boss, that I'd have Jondrette rotting in jail by lunch time."

A wicked gleam appeared in the little gamin's eye. "Well! I'd be happy to help you then, good monsieur."

"What a nice young man. Thank you, Master, uh…?"

"Gavroche," the boy supplied. "Heh," he snickered, rubbing his hands together with glee. "This'll teach the old brute not to recognize me. That's the last time I ever bust him out of prison."

"What was that, son?"

"Nothing, good inspector!" said Gavroche innocently. He led Valjean around a corner, and pointed out a run-down apartment complex. "That's it, right there."

"Goodbye, then!" Valjean grabbed Gavroche's hand and placed several large coins into it. "Here, son, why don't you go down to the carnival and have yourself some fun? A boy your age shouldn't be working on such a beautiful day."

Gavroche stared confusedly from the "inspector", to the money in his hand, back to the "inspector". "Javert, have you been drinking?"

But Valjean had already ducked into the tenement, and tapped one of the resident gamines on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Mademoiselle? I'm looking for the headquarters of Patron-Minette."

"Upstairs and to your right," the girl replied, sounding bored.

"Thank you so much, Mademoiselle…?"

"Thenardier--no, wait." The girl looked terribly confused. "It's Jondrette now. Or is it Fabantou? Oh, forget it!" She threw up her hands, grabbed Valjean, and dragged him up a flight of stairs to the den of Patron-Minette. "Daddy, there's a cop here to see you."

Thenardier smacked his forehead. "Eponine!"

Montparnasse rolled his eyes. "How many times have I told you, Eponine just ain't cut out for lookout duty."

"Shove it, pretty boy," snapped Eponine.

"Please quiet down, everyone." Valjean held up his hands authoritatively. "This is my first arrest and I want to make sure I get it right." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Let's see, how did that go?" He clamped a pair of handcuffs over Thenardier's wrists. "You have the right to remain…quiet? No, that's not right. Oh, for heaven's sake!" He unlocked the cuffs and tossed them aside. "Just forget it. I never have held with locking people up for their crimes anyway." He smiled kindly at Thenardier. "Do you promise not to do, uh, whatever it was that you did, again?"

Thenardier brightened. "Oh, yes sir, of course sir. I've learned my lesson, honest!" He attempted to make the sign of the cross, but just wound up poking himself in the eye. "Ow."

"Well, okay." Valjean dumped a rather large amount of money into Thenardier's hands. "In that case, why don't you all go buy yourselves some candlesticks, and we'll just put this little incident behind us."

There was an enthusiastic chorus of agreement from the band of bandits. Valjean nodded approvingly. "Excellent." He reached into his pocket, pulling out his orders. "Looks like next on the agenda, we have…crushing the rebellion."

"You mean the Friends of the ABC?" Eponine supplied helpfully.

Valjean frowned. "Uh, I think so."

"Well, I was just headed to their hangout to see my boyfriend. I can show you the way." Eponine's eyes were sparkling. This cop was going to put her Marius in jail! And then she would come and spring him, and he'd be so impressed that he'd finally wake up and realize he loved her more than Cosette. How perfect!

"Thank you, dear." He waved goodbye to the thieves, who were all wearing the most angelic smiles they could muster. "Good day, my friends."

Eponine led Valjean down the street, to a dumpy little café. "This is it."

Valjean followed her inside. "Why, that boy is standing on the table. What on earth is he doing? He could fall and injure himself." He called out to the young man, who was giving an impassioned speech from his perch on the tabletop. "Young man? Young man!"

"Who said that?" The young revolutionary paused in mid-rant, glaring viciously at the fellow rebels scattered around him. "For the last time, you will address me as 'His Radiance, the Great Liberator'."

"I think Enjolras needs a vacation," one of the Amis whispered quietly to his friends. There was a soft murmur of agreement.

Enjolras' eyes settled on Valjean. "A police spy! Get him, boys!" Enjolras, Courfeyrac, and Bahorel rushed Valjean, while the rest searched the place for something to tie him up with.

Valjean chuckled condescendingly. "My dear boy, I hate to have to tell you this, but up against my superhuman strength, you don't stand a chance." He moved to push away the hands pinning him to the floor, but to no avail. "Oh no, I forgot, I'm in that weakling inspector's body!"

Bahorel and Courfeyrac dragged their captive into a chair, while Enjolras tied his arms around it, "Take that, you miserable puppet of the aristocracy."

"Yeah," taunted Bahorel. "Let's see you keep us from bringing the country equality and freedom now!"

Valjean looked up at his captors curiously. "Is that what you're out to do? Bring equality and freedom to France?"

"Certainly," replied Enjolras.

"How splendid!" Valjean exclaimed. "It's wonderful to see some young people endeavoring to make positive changes in this world."

"You really think so?" said Enjolras, looking flattered.

"What a nice fellow," mused Combeferre.

"If only there were more cops like him," sighed Feuilly.

"Say," Enjolras broke in, "why don't we just let him go?"

The Amis smiled and nodded. Combeferre stepped forward to loosen Valjean's bonds. "You are free to go, Inspector."

Valjean beamed. "Thank you, kids. You're all right." He left the café, waving over his shoulder. "And good luck with your revolution!"

_TBC…_


	3. Chapter 3:  Javert's Day

Chapter Three: Javert's Day

Javert walked into Valjean's place and slammed the door behind him. "I can't believe I'm stuck in the body of this loaf-snatching lowlife," he grumbled under his breath, glowering venomously into a nearby mirror. "Ugh, this kindly old face of his just doesn't glower like mine can."

"M. Fauchelevant?" Toussaint poked her head into the room.

Javert rolled his eyes. _Another alias of his, I expect. _"Well, what is it?" he snapped.

"D-d-did you take c-c-care of those b-bills I stuck under the table?"

Javert gave her a funny look. "What the devil is wrong with your voice? Is it cold in here?"

"Shame on you, m-m-monsieur." Tears welled up in the old woman's eyes. "You know how s-sensitive I am about my s-s-stuttering!" She began to sob. "And to think I c-called you a s-saint the other day!"

Javert made a pathetic attempt to glower with Valjean's kindly old face. "How _dare_ you talk back to Inspector J--uh, I mean Jean Valj--uh, what name am I using, again?"

"Old fool," Toussaint cackled under her breath.

"That's the last straw!" Javert roared. "You're fired!"

"G-g-good riddance," Toussaint snorted contemptuously. "M-maybe now, at least, I'll b-b-be able to find an employer who d-doesn't insist on t-t-turning off all the lights and hiding in the c-c-closet every time a p-policeman walks p-past the house." She stormed off to her room to pack, slamming the door behind her.

"What was all that racket about?" Cosette emerged from her room. "Oh, good morning, Daddy!" She ran up to the inspector, threw her arms around him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Isn't it a lovely day?"

Javert, who was currently at the forefront of a campaign to illegalize any type of human contact, recoiled. "I order you to get off of me this instant!"

Cosette's smile faded. "Daddy? What have I done to deserve this kind of treatment?" She burst into tears. "Are you mad at me?"

Javert silently racked his brain. _Did they ever say anything about handling hysterical children at the Police Academy?_

Cosette's bawling grew louder. "Fine! Don't answer me! See if I care!" With that, she ran to her room and slammed the door behind her.

Javert did his best to ignore her howling, but the nerve-grating sobs just kept increasing in volume, until he was forced to knock on her door. "Uh, please, my…er, dear? I, um, I didn't mean it."

Cosette cautiously cracked the door, peeking out at her "father" with one eye. "Really?"

"Uh, yeah. I was…kidding you! Yeah, that's it. Dads love to kid around, right?"

Cosette laughed. "All right, Daddy, I'm sorry we quarreled." She opened the door fully and embraced the disguised inspector. Javert just looked ill.

Fortunately, the doorbell rang a few seconds later, giving him an easy escape. "Oh! That's the door! I'll get it. You go and …do whatever it is that girls do."

Javert pulled the door open, to reveal a ragged young mother and her eight hungry little children. She smiled warmly at Javert. "Good morning, M. Fauchelevant. Here we are, just like you asked."

"Huh?"

"Don't you remember? We met in the slums yesterday, and you promised us some money to buy a new roof for our home." She looked down at her children. "Now, what to you say to the nice philanthropist, kids?"

The children beamed up at Javert. "Thank you, Uncle Fauchelevant!"

The littlest boy latched on to Javert's leg. "I wuv you, Uncie Fauchelevant!"

Javert made a rather entertaining attempt at removing the boy, shaking his legs violently in what looked like some sort of weird dance. "Madame, get it off me!" He finally managed to pry the child off with a big stick.

The littlest girl's lower lip began to quiver. "Are you mad at us, Uncie Fauchelevant?"

Javert groaned. "Not another crying girl!"

"You don't have to yell, Uncie Fauchelevant," the oldest girl defended.

"And stop calling me that!" Javert thundered. "Go on, get out of here before I lock you up with that Gavroche, and the rest of the little criminals!"

The family ran off crying, and Javert banged his head against the doorframe in frustration. "Surrounded by people like this, it's a wonder 24601 hasn't committed murder by now." He heard a noise around the back. "Oh, great! Who's coming to bother me now?" He headed through the house and opened the back door. "Cosette? Is that you out there?"

"Oh no!" Cosette, half hidden in a clump of trees, whispered to someone in the shadows. "Did you hear that? Run, my love, before my father finds you and beats you to death with a shovel!"

Curious, Javert ran over and seized Marius by the collar. "Not so fast, boy! Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"He's a priest!" Cosette cut in. "and he's here because…because he got lost on the way to the…priest convention!"

Marius looked at her as if she had grown another head. "Actually, I'm a two-bit lawyer, come to woo your daughter out from under your nose."

Pleased with anything that might anger his archenemy, Javert fought a smile. "Oh? And how long has this been going on?"

"Well, I've been stalking her for a year or so, but didn't manage to get out of the hedges and into her heart until just a few weeks ago. I wanted to marry her right off, but Cosette said that if I asked you for her hand, you would say no. And then beat me to death with your shovel.

"I see."

Cosette threw herself in front of Marius. "Please don't kill us! We're too cute to die!"

Javert was now biting his tongue, trying to hold back an evil laugh. "Perish the thought! He seems like a very nice young man. And if you two are really in love…"

Cosette's eyes lit up hopefully. "Oh, we are!"

"We can sing our little song for you, if you want proof!" Marius threw in helpfully.

"No!" Javert shouted. "Er, that's not necessary." A wicked grin crept its way across the kindly old face, and it looked even more out of place than the glowering had. "In that case, I see no reason for you two happy kids not to get married." _Heh heh heh, Valjean is gonna hate this_, he thought with relish.

Marius perked up. "You really mean it?"

"Sure! In fact, why not elope? Right now? This very second?" This was his chance to be rid of the girl until Ted came to change him back.

Cosette smiled, first at Marius, then at Valjean. "Oh, thank you! I love you." She thought for a moment. "But I could never get married without my darling Daddy there to walk me down the aisle."

"I just want you to happy, darling," Marius said. "If that's what you want, then we'll wait and have a church wedding." He frowned. "But since Cosette's mother is dead, and I have no family of my own, M. Fauchelevant, we'll need you to help us plan the wedding."

The smile abruptly faded from Javert's face. "Now wait a minute, I--"

But Cosette had already seized him in a big bear hug. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"Group hug!" Marius joined in. "Thanks, Dad!"

_One more chapter to go…_


	4. Chapter 4: The End

Chapter Four: The End

The people of Paris were not stupid. They quickly picked up on the notorious inspector's sudden drop in ruthlessness, and realized that this was their big chance for some revenge. In that spirit, a mob of disgruntled Parisians had gathered in the streets to harass poor Valjean.

One man threw a glob of mud into Valjean's eyes. "Take that, you stargazing dictator!"

Another mob member snatched his hat and coat. "Hah!" He put them both on, and then snatched the nightstick out of Valjean's belt. "Who's the inspector now?" He whacked Valjean with the stick triumphantly.

A pair of ragged gamins gave him a shove and then snatched his purse. "That's for the little people, ya brute!"

"Now, boys," Valjean chided gently, wiping the mid from his face. "There's no need to resort to petty name-calling, just because mob violence is erupting in the streets."

"Shut up, Inspector!" one of the gamins retorted.

"As you wish". Valjean sighed sadly. _This must be another punishment from God_, he decided. _Better just wait it out patiently._

The angel Ted suddenly appeared at his side. "Valjean!" Ted groaned in exasperation. "It's not a punishment from God--now run for it, man! They're planning to have you tarred and feathered as soon as they finish bringing the tar to a boil."

Valjean hesitated. "Are you certain God would not rather I--"

"Just run," Ted deadpanned, rolling his eyes skyward.

"Yes, sir!" Valjean obediently tore off down the street. In a rather cartoonish chase scene, he managed to outrun the mob and duck into the safety of his Rue Plumet home. "Whew," he panted. "That was close!"

When the back door swung open, he was ready to panic, until he saw the intruder's face. His face. "Javert?"

"Valjean?" Javert barely managed to restrain himself from hugging the convict. "Thank God you're back! These friends of yours have been driving me insane. It's a wonder you didn't turn out even more evil than you are."

Valjean, still red-faced and winded from the chase, nodded breathlessly. "Tell me about it! Being an uptight cop is a lot harder than it looks."

A brilliant flash of light suddenly flooded the Fauchelevant parlor. Valjean and Javert looked up, and were only half surprised to see Ted the Angel hovering above them with a smug smile on his face. "I'm glad to see that you too have finally reached an understanding. I trust you've learned your lesson?"

Valjean and Javert both nodded meekly.

"Excellent." Ted clapped his hands excitedly. "Then I guess I'll be changing you back and going home to claim that big screen TV now. Farewell!" Ted disappeared with a bang and a big cloud of smoke.

As the smoke cleared, Valjean and Javert studied each other for a long minute. The cop and the convict both whooped for joy when they saw that the angel had kept his word.

"I'm me again!" He felt his face blissfully. "Oh, it feels so good to be rid of those awful sideburns."

Javert found a mirror and kissed his own reflection. "Now _this_ is a face for glaring." He glowered into the mirror briefly, just to make sure he still had it. "Ah, it's good to be back."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Valjean agreed. "I just wasn't cut out for law enforcement."

"Why? What happened." Javert eyed his former enemy warily. "You didn't go all soft on everyone, now, did you?"

Valjean's looked away sheepishly. Javert didn't have time to persist as a sudden clamoring was heard at the front door. The mob of angry Parisians had finally caught up with Valjean.

"Damn it, Valjean!"

"Sorry! I just don't have it in me to batter and imprison lawbreakers all day. I would prefer to focus on rehabilitation."

Javert buried his face in his hands, trying to calm down. "Never mind, never mind, I'll get this situation under control." Javert threw the door open and stared down the throng of screaming street people. "Disperse immediately or I'll have you thrown into the deepest, darkest dungeon France has to offer!" He punctuated his threat with a vicious glare, and the crowd scattered in terror.

"That's more like it!" thundered the inspector. "And, you there, give me back my coat and hat this instant!"

The fleeing rioter obediently tossed the coat and hat over his shoulder and into the policeman's arms. Javert victoriously donned his uniform once more. "Still got it. So," he looked pointedly at Valjean, "were there any _other_ problems."

Valjean shrugged. "No, not really…"

He was cut off by the sound of yet another mob marching down the Rue Plumet. This mob, however was not made up of revenge-seeking ruffians. This mob was made up of Les Amis and company. Having not been interfered with by the authorities, they had successfully conquered Paris, and were going on a victory procession through the streets of the city. His Radiance, the Great Liberator, formerly known as Enjolras, led the procession, singing a song of triumph.

"_Red, the blood of angry men!_

_Black, the dark of ages past!_

_Red, a world about to dawn!_

_Black, the night that ends at laaaaaast!"_

Little Gavroche was marching at his left side, carrying the French flag. "That was fun! Hey, now that we're running Paris, can I go steal some chocolate from that candy store on the corner and call it collecting taxes?"

Combeferre was marching at Enjolras' right side, carrying the rebels' red flag. "Uh, Enjolras, I love music and parades as much as the next guy, but shouldn't we be concentrating on setting up a provisional government and writing a constitution?"

"Well…" Enjolras cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't really plan this far ahead, to be honest--I was expecting to be brutally slaughtered. But I guess I can always improvise a new constitution!" He jumped up onto a bench in Valjean's front yard. "Hear ye, hear ye! This is an official decree from His Radiance, the Great Liberator! The Kingdom of France shall henceforth be known as the People's Democratic Republic of France, and--"

"Excuse me, Enjolras," Jehan ventured, "but doesn't that sound a little bland and sterile for a country founded on mob violence and musical numbers? How about something more poetic, like the People's Democratic Republic of Liberty and Freedom?"

"That does have a nice ring to it." Enjolras admitted. "All right, then. The People's Democratic Republic of Liberty and Freedom--

"And universal health care!" Joly chimed in.

"Fine, fine. The People's Democratic Republic of Liberty and Freedom and Universal Health Care!" Enjolras shouted. "And new Prime Minister of the P.D.R.L.F.U.H.C. shall be…me."

"Who could have seen _that_ coming?" Grantaire snorted sarcastically.

Enjolras continued with his proclamation. "My comrade Feuilly will be my Minister of Labor, Joly will be my Minister of Health, Laigle will be my Minister of Law, and Gavroche will be my Minister of Revenue." He handed Gavroche a printed money sack. "Now go get this administration some chocolate, Minister Thenardier!"

A fuming Inspector Javert seized Valjean by the lapels and shook him violently. "You didn't?! Please, tell me you didn't!"

Valjean cheerfully shoved Javert's hands aside. "Oh, it's not as bad as all that, Javert. Someday, you might even look back on this and laugh. Come on, let's go on inside. We'll have a nice long chat, and I'll get Cosette to fix us some tea. Cosette, will you come here?" he called. "Where are you, Cosette?"

Javert laughed evilly. "You won't find her in here, Valjean."

"What are you talking about?" Valjean looked confused.

Javert was laughing too hard to speak by this point, so he answered Valjean's question by leading him into the backyard. There, a small wedding ceremony was taking place.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride," the priest announced.

The bridegroom lifted his new wife's veil, to reveal the face of Cosette Fauchelevant-Pontmercy. The Baroness Pontmercy smiled as she kissed her new husband. "What a perfect wedding, Marius!"

"Yep," Marius agreed, turning to grin at his new father-in-law. "You were right, Dad. Getting married today, on the spur of the moment, was much more romantic than waiting to have a church wedding. Thanks for your advice!"

Valjean rounded on Javert. "Are you crazy?! You let my daughter marry a honorable, kindhearted man who treats her like a queen?!"

"Yeah, and I used most of your retirement fund to buy them a romantic honeymoon trip to Tahiti," Javert managed to choke out between roars of laughter.

Valjean's face went red, his kindly old face twisting in a vicious, rabid snarl. "YOU! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL BOTH OF YOU!" His eyes darted from Marius to Javert. Unsure whom to attack first, he tackled them both. What followed was a nightmarish bloodbath to horrible to describe.

THE END


End file.
